


What a Price to Pay

by Dawnwind



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: Angst, Episode Related, Episode: s02e05 Gillian, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-26 20:49:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20748536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dawnwind/pseuds/Dawnwind
Summary: Hutch is in love but Starsky can't stop thinking about what trouble that could cause.





	What a Price to Pay

**Author's Note:**

  * For [garrideb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/garrideb/gifts).

What a Price to Pay

“I think I want to marry her,” Hutch said dreamily, staring out the windshield of the Torino.

“Gillian?” Starsky asked, stunned. His heart sank. He’d read that phrase so many times in novels, and laughed, thinking it impossible. But he literally felt a sinking sensation, like his heart dropping out of his chest, leaving a pain behind. What caused it –- he couldn’t even identify the reason for such a reaction, but a feeling of loss came the closest.

“I don’t understand.” Starsky gripped the steering wheel with both hands, the image of Gillian with Councilman Lambert fresh in his memory. “You’ve known her three weeks? What about Abby?”

Not too long ago, Hutch had been over the moon for the pretty Abigail Crabtree. So much so that he willingly ate yogurt, wheat germ and vitamin E by the case, to please her.

“Abby?” Hutch drew out the two syllables of her name as if he’d forgotten who she was entirely. “We’re taking a break. There was some friction and…” He blew out a frustrated breath with a dismissive gesture. “Going our separate ways.”

“News t’me, since we double dated not a month ago,” Starsky said more snidely than he’d intended. 

“It was right after that,” Hutch answered, jaw tense. “Not like you’re still seeing whatshername.”

_What was her name? _ “Karin,” he said, remembering to stress the second syllable as she’d instructed. Not Karen. “No, but it was a blind date. Abby set us up.”

“Starsky, why the third degree?” Hutch snapped, never looking in his direction. 

Starsky felt that pang of loss even deeper, as if Hutch were physically much farther away than on the other side of the car. 

“I don’t need to tell you every detail of my love life.”

“No,” Starsky said, stung. He turned the big car onto Washington, jockeying into a curbside parking spot. He wanted to say that there was a time when you did. 

Except that was not entirely the truth. Hutch had kept silent about a lot of the shit he’d stepped in when married to Van. He’d never said a word about Jeanie Walton, except to introduce her to Starsky when she worked at The Pits, and look what a bad idea that turned out to be. Hutch had been kidnapped and forcibly hooked on heroin by her cruel ex-boyfriend, for God’s sake. 

So was it really only Abby Hutch had talked about incessantly? Her prowess in bed, fueled by a vegetarian diet. Her awesome thigh strength from bike riding and Jazzercise? Plus, her love of her grandmother, one Maggie McMillan who owned a Kaiser Frasier and liked to confess to misdemeanors. Actually, Starsky liked Maggie more than he liked Abby, if he had to come clean.

Going over the bald facts, Starsky was weirdly tired, as if he’d lost something he thought he’d found. 

Hutch hadn’t moved from the car, irritation coming off him in waves—a stark change from the giddy grin he had whenever he mentioned Gillian. “You gonna get out?” he asked, shoving the car door open. “I’ve got more important things to do than sit in a hot car.”

“I—“ Starsky stopped himself, about to say something he’d regret instantly. He walked around the front of the car, trailing behind Hutch into Metro instead of walking shoulder to shoulder as they normally did.

He should tell Hutch what he had seen. That Gillian was a hooker, not some struggling poet. But Hutch was so in fantasy romance right now, so deliriously happy, that Starsky really didn’t want to burst the balloon. 

Was it betrayal to keep the truth from him? Why did he keep feeling like he’d done an injustice to Abby? Something he should have remembered but hadn’t hit him like a punch in the gut. 

Suddenly uneasy, which he rarely felt with Hutch, Starsky hurried to catch up as Hutch was pushing into the squadroom. “Forgot to tell you. Abby called th’other day when you were testifying in court.” 

Hutch reached for the coffee pot, clearly listening but still not looking directly at Starsky.

“Said she wanted to talk,” Starsky said quickly, to get it out in the open. No secrets, right? Like that ever solved anything. “Didn’t think anything of it ‘cept I realized it’d been a long time since I saw her—cause of Gillian, I guess.”

“Can’t you take a message?” Hutch rolled his eyes, drinking coffee like it was a health-giving tonic. “She called my place, too. Wants to hash things out. I’m past that.” He rotated his shoulders, sitting down with a beautiful smile. “Isn’t this a magnificent day?”

Starsky glanced out the narrow windows. The temperature had been in the mid eighties, the visible sky yellow-gray with smog. Hutch had it bad, all right, which filled Starsky with a witch’s brew of emotion. Most he couldn’t identify, but the pain in his chest gripped tighter. “Really warm,” he agreed lamely.

“I’ll take Gillian to the beach tomorrow when we’re off. Do you know that she’s been here for months and never been to the beach?” Hutch gushed, the whole subject of Abby dismissed out of hand. 

“Expect she’s been busy,” Starsky responded, guilt adding to the caustic stew that churned in his belly. Guilt and overwhelming sadness.

Hutch should know, that was the bottom line. What she really did for a living. The poetry, story writing, whatever the hell she did on her down time was probably a dream to wish away the reality of cuddling up to Councilman Lambert in the back of the Venus massage parlor.

It wasn’t like Starsky had contempt for the profession. He knew some very nice women who were hookers. Sweet Alice, Iris and Orange, to name a few. They’d all had lives full of trauma and pain. It wouldn’t be a surprise to find out Gillian had, too, back in Cleveland.

It wasn’t like Starsky looked down on someone in her position, or thought that Hutch deserved better…

But Hutch should know, right? The fact that Gillian sold herself to pay the rent wouldn’t bother Hutch as much as being lied to. It would hurt him deeply. As much as it would hurt Starsky to have to tell him.

Which was the crux of the matter, and the basis of Starsky’s bellyache. Was the act of omission lying? Not a white lie, but simply not revealing the truth. Or was it a kindness to support Hutch and Gillian’s brand-new relationship?

Then there was the whole other side of the equation, Al Grossman and his nasty mama. What a perfect name for that family. They’d been muscling in, forcing a protection racket on the whole downtown area, threatening and possibly murdering those in their way. As Gillian’s pimps, they would consider her their property—a means to bring in the almighty buck. They wouldn’t take kindly to her giving out the merchandise for free.

If Grossman found out about Hutch, did that put him in danger? Didn’t take a seasoned street cop to figure that one out.

_That was it._ That was Starsky’s red line in the sand. He couldn’t leave Hutch in harm’s way. He would do whatever it took to keep Ken Hutchinson safe. Even if that meant getting rid of Gillian Inghram. 

Hutch had said she wanted to open a little boutique, to sell clothes. There was no way she could have earned enough of a nest egg to put a down payment on a storefront after only a few months in Bay City. Not on what the Grossmans let her keep. At a guess, she probably made less than fifty percent of the profit from a john. She’d need capital. Lots of it—and rent was probably much cheaper in Ohio than it was in California.

An idea forming in his brain, Starsky looked over at Hutch idly tapping the keys on the typewriter with a sappy expression of love on his face. What if the Grossmans came after Hutch because he was dating Gillian?

_Keeping him safe was the number one priority._

What if Hutch hated him for what he was about to do? 

Starsky would deal with whatever fallout there was, as long as Hutch was alive and safe. It would break his heart if Hutch turned away from him, but not as badly as if Hutch were dead.

He kept remembering the immense sadness on Eddie Hoyle’s face seeing Lonely dead. 

FIN


End file.
